Grey Sky Morning
by Sally10
Summary: Hermoine suddenly disappears, leaving a crushed and clueless Ron behind to pick up the pieces of his heart. What happens when she just as suddenly returns?
1. Chapter 1

He woke up, wincing at the pain in his head. It felt as though someone was playing the drums on the back of his eyes. He sat up slowly, running his fingers through his too-long red hair. His eyes flickered over the sleeping woman next to him. The sun that was streaming through the windows, fell on her peaceful face, framed by jet black curls. _Name... What was her name_? The thought lurked in the back of his mind, but, unable to get through the penetrating fog that was his hangover, it quickly fled.

He didn't want to piece together last nights events. He already knew what he would find. Another night, another bar, trying to drink away the constant pain, until he finally sought comfort in the arms of another poor substitute for the woman he so desperately missed. He stood up, dressing in the first pair of pants he saw strewn across the messy floor and quietly shuffled to the kitchen. He smoked slowly, standing over the sink, staring out the window at the small overgrown patch of grass that was supposed to be a back yard. Sun shone down on overgrown grass and weeds, which angrily choked the slats of a wooden fence.

_I hate this part_, he thought bitterly. The dreaded morning after._ Let's just hope this one leaves quickly and quietly._

As he lit his second smoke, he heard her enter the kitchen.

"Good Morning"

Her voice was soft, raspy, and in it he could hear the pain of a hangover that surely rivaled his own.

"uhh.. Morning", he managed, scratching the stubble on his chin. He could see her sizing him up: hair unkempt and begging for a cut; blue eyes with dark, unsightly bags under them; pajama pants hanging off of a frame that was starving for nourishment other than the liquid fares of the nearest pub.

She looked his total opposite. Bright, dark eyes, smooth cocoa skin, hair that fell in ringlets to her shoulders,curves in all the right places.

_She must have really been pissed last night,_ he thought to himself. Surely someone with her looks, could have done better than him. Not that he was complaining, mind you.

He saw a flush rise in her cheeks, at the same time his long-forgotten cigarette indignantly burnt his finger. He quickly threw it in the sink, the pain hardly registering in his brain._ Fuck, say something, you git, and stop staring._

"I, uh, um... Breakfast?" He eloquently spat out.

"Um, no, thanks, I should probably go," she quickly replied, shifting her weight nervously.

"Right, right, of course," Ron said.

"Yeah, uh, I guess I'll catch you around.. " She stammered, blushing furiously.

_She obviously doesn't do this often_, Ron thought, while simultaneously trying to suppress his memories of how often he had done this.

The mystery woman quickly Floo'ed out of his house.

_Thank God that is over._

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><p><strong>AN: *whew* This is my first ever fan fic. I've been mostly a lurker. Any thoughts/comments are appreciated. And if anyone wants to beta or help me find one, I'd be hugely appreciative.**


	2. Chapter 2

_She was in his arms, right where she belonged. Everything was perfect. He ran his fingers through her wild brown hair as they kissed furiously. Tongues, lips, even teeth, clashing, intertwining, struggling for dominance. He lived her, breathed her. He was addicted to her. He ran his hands over her soft, supple body, skimming her hard nipples, feeling the weight of her full breasts. He nibbled and sucked on her neck, inhaling her scent. It was sunshine, and warmth, and home and happiness, and a hint of her cinnamon vanilla body wash. It was perfect. It was Hermione. He ran his fingers down between her legs, feeling her hot, wet center. As he kissed her, he stole glances at her face, trying to memorize her expressions, her moans. He felt her knees trembling with desire. He kissed her deeply on the lips, and paused, staring deep into her eyes. She was a vision. Hair flamed out across his pillow, cheeks flushed and red, lips slightly parted as she looked at him, love and adoration shining in her eyes. "Ron", she gasped, "Ron, I -_

"RONALD WEASLEY, YOU LOW DOWN, NO GOOD EXCUSE OF AN UNCLE, WAKE UP!"

Ron sat up, offended at the interruption. His sister stood in front of the couch he had fallen asleep on. She advanced on him, murder in her eyes, until the only thing between them was his coffee table strewn with empty beer cans and a full ashtray.

"For Merlin's sake, Ginny, WHAT?"

She froze momentarily, slack jawed with rage. It was at this moment that a puff of green smoke in the fireplace announced another unwelcome intruder. Harry walked over to stand next to his wife. His very heavily pregnant wife.

_Whoa. She's huge._ Ron thought._ When did that happen?_ As he searched his memory, he suddenly realized that Harry was talking to him.

"-looking forward to it Ron. I know you are struggling here, really I do. But you can't let down a kid on his birthday!"

Ron shook his head, trying to clear some of the fog. "Wha? Birthday?"

"You! Sorry! Wanker! You! Forgot!" Screeched Ginny, punctuating each word by throwing one of the empty beer cans from the stopped the abuse as he turned and gently took her hands in his. "Honey, why don't you go home, and have some fun with James and his new toys? I'll stay here and have a talk with Ron. All this stress isn't good for you." He said this to her, love and concern coating every word

Ron's stomach churned and he looked away.

Ginny looked into Harry's eyes, unspoken communication flying between the two. Finally, she dropped her gaze to her brother, sighed in defeat, and Floo'd home. Harry's gaze focused on Ron.

_Fuck. Here we go. Again..._

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><p>Ron lit a half smoked joint that had been sitting in the ashtray. He coughed slightly, and took another deep drag. "Okay, brother in law, let's get this over with", he said, frustration and rage marring the last words of his sentence. He was an adult. He should be able to live his life anyway he chose, and WITHOUT the lectures and condescending "chats". If they couldn't accept him as he was, they could bugger off. It was the same speech he had given to his mother and father, and to his brothers and old Hogwart's friends as well. Most of them had eventually gotten the hint, and given up on him. A few hung on steadfastly. Like Harry. And Ginny.<p>

He felt a pang of remorse for the nephew he had hurt. He briefly tried to remember the last time he had seen the boy, but soon abandoned his efforts. Digging in old memories was the last thing he wanted to do. Her face was in so many of them. Tainting them. Taunting him. Torturing him.

He took a last hit from his joint, and dropped what was left of it in a half empty beer can. He sat back on the couch, turning his focus on Harry. Harry was sitting in an old overstuffed arm chair, brow furrowed in though. An image flew to the forefront of Ron's mind: _Hermione curled up in that chair, with her nose buried in a book, Crookshanks in her lap. Her delicate hands absentmindedly stroking the thick, orange fur._

Suddenly, Harry stood up, and purposefully strode over to the fireplace.

"Where are you going? I thought you were going to 'have a talk with Ron'," Ron sneered.

Harry paused, his back to his former best mate, shoulders slightly slumped.

"I was. But you know, I ..I.. Well, I think I'm just going to go back home. The truth is, I don't see the point in wasting my breath. You know what you are doing is stupid, and selfish, and -"

"Selfish? Last time I checked, this was MY life, and I can run it however I bloody well please!"

"You're right. You can. And you can do it with out my wife and son in it. You really fucked up today, and you really hurt him bad. I've tried really hard to be there for you, Ron. To support you through this. I know it's been hard on you, it's been hard on all of us. But making my son cry on his birthday is the last straw. I'm done." And with that last sentence, Harry looked his old friend in the face, eyes brimming with the hurt and disappointment of years of solidarity on the verge of crumbling.

Silence hung heavily in the air as Harry looked into Ron's eyes, searching for any sign, any indication that his last ditch efforts had gotten through.

He saw nothing.

With a barely audible sigh, Harry turned his back and vanished into the fireplace, leaving wisps of green smoke where friendship now lay dead.

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><p><strong>AN : I just want to thank everyone for the reviews! And a huge thank you to those who put me on their alerts and favorite lists! I'm so flattered. I hope I didn't disappoint! **


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